Below are the 7 most recent journal entries recorded in irene_wombat's LiveJournal:

Tuesday, February 7th, 2006
10:56 am	speaking of lemons... My little mood faces remind me of a saying that I think is pretty great. It goes a little somthing like this: When life gives you lemons, put them down your shirt to make your boobs look bigger. ps-crabapples also work well if you're going for a smaller, less-noticeable upgrade, so I hear. Current Mood: good (Comment on this)
10:24 am	The city bus is an interesting experience. I always enjoy my 45 minute ride to work. I sit in the back and people-watch. It's always quite entertaining. Just yesterday, I saw 3 people worth mentioning. The first was a girl in skpants. Yes, skpants. Not just a skirt with pants under it, no, as far as I could tell these were attached, or at least sold as a set. They were red. And not the shade of red that goes unnoticed. We're talkin bright, firetruck red. Made of weird spandex-y material. And she was wearing uggs. Double-barf. The second person worth my mention was no more than an annoying girl who never learned that it's not polite to talk on your cell phone loudly enough so the whole bus can hear. Especially when you're talking about who hooked up with who and what STDs were exchanged at the past weekend's festivities. I kid you not. Apparently, Chris got the worst end of the deal. 'nuff said. The third person was probably my favorite. This guy was probably in his mid- to late-40s and had the typical wisconsinite appearance...balding head and beer gut. I didn't take much notice to the guy at first, he seemed pretty normal. Nothing out of the ordinary. He made small talk with the bus driver, and the little old ladies, and the young dad with the toddler, pretty average, friendly guy. Then he stood up to get off the bus and thats when I noticed them. Black Pleather Pants. This man, with his balding head and beer gut, was wearing black pleather pants. Luckily, they were not form-fitting, as is expected from pleather pants. But they were shiny. and black. and pleather. my day was complete. So if you go to school somewhere that gives you bus passes, I urge you, next time you get bored during the day (don't start at night...thats a whole different crowd-you have to work up to that one), hop on a bus for a little while. You're guaranteed entertainment. PS-it's more fun to do it with a friend. Then if the other people on the bus don't prove entertaining, you can start something of your own. I like intimate conversations at audible volumes. Or a play-by-play of your last doctor's appointment to see about that fungus on your foot. It doesn't have to be true, just socially awkward. Current Mood: entertained (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Friday, January 27th, 2006
7:22 pm	Here's a thought... y'know those little "inspirational sayings" or "chinese proverbs"? well if you think about it, a lot of them cancel each other out. Say, for example, one of your friends is trying to decide on a car to buy. Your car is for sale. Your friend is interested in your car, but wants to look around a little more before committing. So you offer him the proverb "He who hesitates is lost" to help speed the decision and help you sell your car. However, if your car isn't quite ready to be sold, you might say "good things come to those who wait" in hopes to stop your friend from buying a car that isn't yours. Now, I know this is a bad example because you'd just tell your friend you were thinking about selling your car rather than feeding him some "words of wisdom", but my point is, those two saying contradict each other. You can come up with something for any side of any situation. Therefore, they're lame. Because each one can be contradicted. Well maybe not each one, but enough to render the whole lot extra-lame. Current Mood: exhausted (Comment on this)
Thursday, January 26th, 2006
10:13 pm	i have this picture of two people, a younger one and an older one, frolicking in a misty/foggy field. All you can see of them is their outlines against the red sky and the mist clouds. I cut it out off of the dust jacket of a book we got in the library a few months ago. I dont remember what the book was about. Toxic something-or-other or some other horrible thing. but the picture struck me. it reminds me of frolicking on rainy nights, not a care in the world, me in my red rain coat, running around, being a kid. and being surrounded by family. not biological family. real family. the kind of family that doesn't judge you, that loves you for who you are (as cheesy-movie as that sounds). The kind where you're not afraid to let on that youre the slow kid, because you know that while they may laugh at first (and they always do), they'll make the effort to bring you up to speed. I don't remember what movie it was (probably because I'm lame, and I also have 20 different things running through my head right now), but in this movie they talk about silence, and how it doesnt always need to be filled. and thats how I feel when I'm home, when I'm frolicking in or just standing and watching the rain. Words can't always do justice to what's going on, to how we feel. Sometimes we need that silence. It's comforting. To know that you're not speaking a word, but everyone around you knows what you're saying. And sometimes the best memories are the silent ones, where words don't interrupt our thoughts and feelings. So I guess my point is that it's a really cool picture, and it makes me think of home, which is why it's on my wall right by my computer. It gives me a reminder of that sense of freedom and belonging I get when I'm home. Current Mood: reminiscent (Comment on this)
Sunday, January 22nd, 2006
10:03 pm	"entertain me"... A long time ago, in a land far far away...there lived 3 siblings. Chazz, the oldest of the 3, was a 17 year old boy with only one arm. In the middle, Denise was a starry-eyed 14 year old with dreams of getting out of the hick town where the whole Dable family lived. Francisco, the youngest, was the 8-year-old illigitimate love child of the milkman's. but Mr. Dable thought it was his. One day, Mr. Dable sold one of the cars from their yard, and got enough money to get Chazz a prosthetic arm. However, his wife, Yolanda, had other plans for the money. For, you, our dear reader, must realize that not only has Yolanda been cheating on her husband for the better part of a decade, but she also keeps a secret girlfriend in an apartment across town. Now on this particular day, the 2nd of April, we find Chazz in his bedroom, on the top bunk, fuming with anger. You see, Chazz just returned home from downtown, where he witnessed his mother and this other woman in an oddly, too-friendly embrace. Francisco ran into Chazz's room, tripped over the rug, and faceplanted into the middle of the room. Normally, Chazz would have burst out laughing, but not this time. Not after what he had just seen. What did this all mean? Why was his mother hugging another woman? Did this mean another sibling for Chazz? (He is, after all, a hick...his education isn't quite up to par) Could they support another kid? And when was his mom coming home to make dinner, because damn, was he hungry. Just as he started walking towards the kitchen, a team of ninjas repelled into the living room through the skylight. The ninjas quickly spread out through the house, in pairs of 2, clearing the house of potential danger. But what, you ask, is this potential danger? Yolanda's girlfriend was actually a double agent for the Iraqi government. She was Saddam Hussein's daughter, sent to this hick town in Southern Iowa to gather information about a new weapon under development that relies of corn for fuel. The team of ninjas quickly surrounded Fransisco and Chazz, ordering them to stay in their bedrooom. It was at this point that Chazz remember the Snicker's Bar he kept for situations just like this, taped to the top of his closet... Chazz grabbed the snickers bar and clocked one of the ninjas on the back of the head with it, rendering him unconscious. He managed to duck out of the way of the other and made a mad dash for the rotary phone in the hall. He was going to call his girlfriend, Pam Dawson, who was a virgin school nurse over in Westchestertonfieldville, but he decided he had better call the police. Then he realized he would need the help of his illigitimate younger brother to dial the phone...his nubbin wasn't long enough to hold the phone to his ear, and too wide to dial the rotary phone. And he was still hungry. So he unwrapped the snickers and headed back to his room to fetch little Franny. When he got to his room, he discovered that his brother was nowhere to be found... While the ninjas had attacked, Yolanda's girlfriend, Mohammed Jihad, (Moe, for short) had snuck into the back of the house (damn Iraqis, always going for the back door.) Moe snatched Franny and made a break for the hills. Chazz realized what had happened, that his brother was missing, and that he was left alone, unable to dial the phone, or drive a car. He had two options. He could (1) Drive the tractor, which was an automatic, into town to get help or (2) signal his pet pigeon, Buffy, to carry a message into town for him. The two options were both dangerous, since Buffy's flight would be over the notoriously surly neighbor, Mr. Angrypants, who coincidentally spent his days on his porch, loaded shotgun at his side. However, riding the tractor would alert both the ninjas and Moe of his position. Which was riskier, leaving himself in the open, or putting Buffy at risk? He then remembered that Franny had a pet chinchilla, Sven. Maybe, he thought, he could fling Sven into the air on a sacrifice flight, then send Buff-Buff, as he affectionately called her, safely to town with the message, since Mr. Angrypants would be distracted by the shooting, finding, and gutting Sven. It was a win-win situation. Chazz could get his message to town, and Mr. Angrypants would get to enjoy some delicious chinchilla for dinner. He ran to get Sven from his cage, only to find that ninjas were blocking every hallway, doorway, and window. Thinking quickly, he grabbed his nun-chucks from his closet (he's got some mad nun-chuck skills, since he's one-armed. He needs to be able to defend himself, after all.) and continued down the hall. He fought off 3 ninjas on the way to Francisco's room, but when he opened the door... A giant, white furred wolverine jumped at him from under Fransisco's bed. Not only did Chazz have nun-chuck skills, but he also was proficient in using "a freakin' 12-gauge, what do you think?" But where was ole' blue, his trusty 12-gauge. He ducked as the sharp, biting claws of the Wolverine narrowly missed the mullet growing from the back of his head. He quickly did a tuck and roll move into the kitchen and snatched ole' blue from it's normal resting spot, next to the house key ring, spun, and fired 3 shots at the wolverine, 2 in the heart, one in the head. He returned back to Franny's room, opened the door once more, but found not the room he expected, but a spiralling vortex. Confused, he took a picture off the wall (his grandpappy, Forrest) and tossed it blindly into the Vortex. After 30 seconds of bated breath, a crumpled ball of paper returned from the Vortex. Chazz picked it up, and it read... "Life is like a box of chocolates-you never know what you're gonna get". What did it mean? Was it some kind of cryptic message? Or perhaps the vortex spat out wisdom...Who knows? What was going on? Just then, Chazz heard Denise's car pull into the driveway. At last, someone to help! When he turned around, a ninja was standing behind him, about to rip the snickers out of his hand. He thought fast, threw the ninja into the swirling vortex of death, and slammed the door. He ran to the garage, screaming for Denise. Denise, who wanted nothing more than to leave this hell-hole of a hick town, continued to make out with her boyfriend, who had just pulled up in his John Deere. She ran her fingers through his mullet, being stopped only by the greasy remains of the chicken wings he had eaten for lunch. Luckily for Denise, that was a big turn on, and not only was she hungry, but Chazz came bounding into the garage, jabbering about ninjas and Franny, and a vortex. She consoled him by extricating the chicken from the mullet of her boyfriend, Cletus and feeding it to a grateful Chazz. Chazz was so overjoyed by the cessation of his hunger that he almost forgot about all that had happened. Once things had settled down and Cletus has cleaned himself up, the 3 sat down at the kitchen table, and Chazz began to recount the story of the morning. He talked about the mysterious woman hugging their mother, the ninjas, the wolverine, and the vortex. Denise was so surprised to hear all of this that she immediately called the family "Consigliere", or counselor. They called him that because of the family's affinity for the movie "The Godfather", but really, the consigliere was just their uncle, and coincidentally, grandfather, who worked as the town's sheriff, and coincidentally, mayor. With such a small town...there are too many coincidences after all. When Denise dialed this wise old sage, the phone clicked on, but instead of a welcome "hello", she heard from the other line... "Have you checked the children?" in a deep male voice. "Cletus!" she yelped. "Someone knows! someone knows we have children!" Chazz choked on his chicken. "What?!?" he sputtered. "you mean, I have even more siblings?" "No, you moron, nephews. you have nephews" Denise said, slapping Chazz on the back of the head. "You must'a done dialed the wrong number, Denny", Cletus said. So Denise hung up and dialed for the concigliere/mayor/sherrif/their grandfather/uncle. Meanwhile, Chazz began picking at Cletus' mullet again, looking for more chicken. Just as Denise got through, their mother burst in through the door with a baby in her arms. "Mom!" Chazz yelled, relieved that it wasn't more ninjas. "Whose baby is that?" he asked. "It's Moe's" his mom replied. "She was an accident, but I love her just the same" she explained. "why do you got her then?" Chazz asked. "She's gonna be daddy's little girl, yes she is" replied Yolanda. "Moe couldnt give her a good life, bein on the run and such, so she's gonna live with her daddy for a while" she explained. "Wait, so you're the father?" asked Denise. "yep. ever since my surgery about a year back. your pa and I decided switchin underwear just wasn't doin it for us anymore. so we decided to switch-" "EW! MOM! er...dad, whoever you are. thats gross" exclaimed Denise. Chazz continued to search Cletus' mullet for chicken. "But wait, why is Moe on the run? And why did she steal Franny?" asked Chazz. This fact had not been brought to Yolanda's attention up until this point, and this startling piece of information made her drop poor Achmed John Dable. Luckily for them, the ninja that had been thrown into the vortex had miraculously made his way back to this world, and was walking through the kitchen at that exact moment. Having been welcomed as part of the family for the heroic catch of Achmed, the ninja removed his mask in order to have a beer with the family. The ninja began to explain the long journey they had made from Canada. See, Canada and Iraq had recently declared war on each other, unbeknownst to the residents of rural Iowa. The ninja had been hired as part of the Canadian exchange program in order to track down operatives like Moe. The ninja had been raised on the streets of Toronto, a poor child of a carney (carnival machine operator, to be politically correct) and had accepted this mission with hopes of world travel. Little did he know that his "world travel" would bring him to Iowa. But his time with the Dable family had made him realize the importance of family, and now wished only to help the Dables recover their lost son from Moe. But how to do it. "First," the ninja began, "why did you name your daughter Achmed John?" Chazz blurted out "Yes! I found a wing!" "Shut up, dummy!" Denise yelled "And keep your filthy hands out of my boyfriend's sexy hair! You're not the only hungry one here! Save some for me!" The ninja began formulating a plan to save Francisco. "First, we need 4 bags of marshmallows, 32 toothpicks, and 81 square inches of aluminium foil. Oh and 47 small plastic bears of varying colors." ...and this is what happens when a wombat who sucks at life turns to a princess fairy for entertainment. Current Mood: energetic (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Friday, January 20th, 2006
6:56 pm	something ive been pondering So, if you constantly point out your modesty and humility to other people, are you really that modest and humble? My philosophy professor (who is a jesuit, whether or not that's relevant, i don't know), pointed out 3 times during a 50 minute lecture how modest and humble his lifestyle is. He told us about living in the Jesuit Residence, a "modest place with a good number of people living in pretty close quarters with not too many amenities like you might enjoy in your homes". Then, to prove a point, he showed his watch. He pointed out that "it's no rolex, but it's a wristwatch. By no means is it anything fancy, but it's still a wristwatch." That had nothing to do with the point he was trying to make. And finally, he was telling a story and just blatantly said "now, I'm a pretty humble guy. I mean, more humble than most. And I've found that humility is one of the best qualities to have in life." So is he really humble and modest? I don't think so, but maybe I'm a little biased against jesuits as professors. Especially professors of Ethics. 'nuff said. ps-the little "pensive" face looks more constipated than pensive. But don't worry, no blockage here. Current Mood: pensive (Comment on this)
5:14 pm	So... it's official. I joined the cult. I don't really know why, maybe just to give me something to do, and to give other people another way to waste away their time on the internet. So look forward to random insights into my life, as well as boring, uninteresting accounts of my daily experiences. Now that you've wasted this much time, what's a little more? Current Mood: restless (Comment on this)